torsdag 30 augusti 2018

The utter pointlessness of the Disney Beauty and the Beast remake

OK. So I know I've voiced my scepticism of Disney's live-action remakes before. But things have reached a point now where I've gone from "hm, not sure about this idea" to "for pity's sake stop making these things - you're strangling your own brand!". I thought Disney was on the wrong track before - now I know it. In fact, I would be willing to bet that we've reached the end of the Disney Revival era and are heading for another "dark age" Mouse-wise.

Catching up with the live-action Beauty and the Beast on Netflix isn't the only thing that's made me worry about Disney's future. First, there were the Wreck-It Ralph 2 trailers where Vanellope meets the Disney princesses on the internet, with various in-jokes ensuing. I normally love all kinds of mash-ups and cross-overs, but the knowingness of the these jokes left me completely cold. It was far too close to the cynical tone of the Shrek franchise for my taste, and the princess cameos show no appreciation of all the good will these girls have brought their brand. Honestly, if the Disney people themselves won't stand up for their princesses, even if they do happen to sing and bond with animals, who will? Compare this with the good-natured fun poked at the princess trope in Enchanted, a film that nevertheless showed that good, old-fashioned magical romance and the rose-tinted world-view of "a real princess" can make the world a little brighter.

Then I saw a video of what to expect of Disney and Pixar in 2019, and would you believe it: just like 2018, the list of upcoming films was made up entirely out of sequels and live-action remakes - three of the latter. Though I am curious about Frozen 2, at this point I would rather have seen something new from my favourite animation studio, just to show their well of ideas hasn't run dry. But no. From Pixar we get Toy Story 4 and from Disney animation Frozen 2 - that's our lot. As for the rest, they are swamping us with their live-action remakes, which I'm more and more convinced are completely pointless.

Which finally leads me to the Beauty and the Beast 2017 remake. First, let me make it clear that I'm not going to compare it to the Once Upon a Time take on Beauty and the Beast at all, as I realise that every version of the story where the Beast turns out to be a mere bland prince - including, um, the original fairy tale - will fall short in my estimation compared to Once's villain-lover's fantasy scenario. The battle here stands solely between the animated classic from the Nineties and the live-action extravaganza of 2017. And the animated film wins hands down.

I didn't hate everything about the remake. The settings were visually stunning - the Beast's castle above all; the musical numbers were neatly choreographed; Kevin Kline's Maurice is the most likeable version of Belle's father I've come across (Maurice in the animated version was nice enough, but too much of a kooky dad stereotype); the villain Gaston and his sidekick Le Fou and their relationship are given some depth, which I found convincing; and Dan Stevens acquits himself creditably as the Beast, with a nice, dry delivery of his grouchy lines, though he has zero chemistry with Emma Watson's Belle. I liked Gaston pointing out to Belle that if she was still a spinster when her father died, she could be reduced to begging on the streets - it was a nice reality-check moment. Finally, including a detail from the original story which wasn't in the animated version - Maurice gets into trouble at the Beast's castle for stealing a rose from the garden for his daughter - was classy.

But the good points don't begin to justify the existence of a remake of the animated Beauty and the Beast, which is superior in every other way. Belle is better in the animated film. Watson has the looks for the part, and did a good job of another bookish heroine, so I can see why they went with her. But her singing, while not as bad as, say Russell Crowe's in Les Mis, isn't much to write home about, whereas Paige O'Hara sang beautifully as animated Belle (and I can vouch for the Swedish dub being top-notch too). Also, animated Belle was a lot more - well - animated than Watson, who doesn't emote much in this film. Moreover, adding an inventor's streak to Belle's character was totally unnecessary. She's bright, she's bookish - character traits which Disney added to her character back in the Nineties and should take full credit for - and that's quite enough to be going on with. Belle's character doesn't have to be "fixed".

The Beast is better in the animated film too, in spite of Stevens's best efforts. He has more character development, and is well-drawn quite literally - if there's one criticism, it's that he looks a little too cuddly for a Beast. Nevertheless, it is better than the freakish CGI Stevens has to put up with, which looks as if the hairy face of a man had been grafted on to the body of an animal of some kind. Animated Beast was all animal (which explains why it was imperative for him to be changed back, cute though he was, just to avoid bestiality).

The romance is better in the animated film. It's quite serious when animated characters have more chemistry than two real actors who aren't exactly rookies, but this is the sad fact. Sparks flew when animated Belle and the Beast danced. There's nothing like that between Watson's and Stevens's Belle and Beast; they look as if they only dance because they know they have to in order to recreate an iconic moment.

The servants are way better in the animated film. There they are charming and full of expression. In the remake, they are odd-looking CGI characters with nothing like the ability to show every emotion they experience during the strange Beast-Belle courtship. A bewildering plot element is added, whereby the servants will not only stay in their present furniture/kitchen utensil form if the Beast fails to break the curse, but will actually become inanimate objects and cease existing as living creatures altogether. This adds gloom to a part of the story that is meant to be light relief, and isn't needed in any way; surely the prospect of becoming human again is all the motivation the servants need in order to encourage a romance between Belle and their master.

There are other bewildering additions in the live-action film, which have been pointed out and criticised elsewhere. One of the strangest were the efforts to somehow make sense of the Enchantress's reasons for casting the curse. This only makes her come across as more of a prize bitch because she is shown to put so much thought into the whole thing. This is a fairy tale (albeit written by a female French author in the 18th century rather than an actual folk tale): an Enchantress is entitled to show up, take a dislike to a prince, curse him and buzz off without giving the incident a second thought, and without having puzzled out whether the prince's servants "deserved" to be cursed along with him. It's what Enchantresses do. Notably, though, these additions don't add up to anything approaching a fresh take on the material. So why, then, make a film which is essentially a rehash of an animated classic, only less good? The live-action Cinderella has a little more reason to exist because the animated version, charming as it is, often pushes the actual Cinderella story to the background in favour of cat and mouse slapstick. The animated Beauty and the Beast, on the other hand, keeps to the story and tells it well.

What bothers me is that now that the remake exists, Disney will probably promote it as the Beauty and the Beast adaptation at the cost of the animated film. I can only hope quality will win out in the end, and that somewhere along the line the Mouse will come to its senses and start making worthwhile films again.    

måndag 13 augusti 2018

Heatwave reading: Sanditon

In some ways, selfishly, I miss the heatwave already. It provided such a perfect excuse for not doing anything too ambitious - like reading anything too heavy, let alone blog about it. Using the heatwave as a pretext, as well as the fact that a TV adaptation of Sanditon by Andrew Davies, no less, is in the pipeline, I cheated when it came to the next step in my Jane Austen Rereading Project. Instead of selecting one of her actual novels, I instead chose to reread her novel fragment called Sanditon, ably completed by "another lady" (publisher: Simon & Schuster New York).

Much as I remembered, I actually enjoyed the other lady's efforts more than Austen's. I recall forming a very dim view of Austen's fragment first time around, and while I was less critical this time, I still could not see any signs that Sanditon would have turned out a masterpiece if Austen had finished it. The plot hasn't really got going by the time her narrative ends roughly 70 pages in. Moreover, most of the characters that have been introduced aren't that interesting. Lady Denham, Sanditon's matriarch (though with no children of her own), seems the most promising from a drama point of view, as long as not too much time is spent exploring her stinginess, which is a tedious flaw for a character to have. Mr Parker, with whose family the heroine Charlotte is staying during her Sanditon holiday, is a perfect dear, but there is a limit to how much fun can be had with his overenthusiastic promoting of Sanditon as the new up-and-coming seaside resort. He is saddled with two sisters and a brother who are hypochondriacs - another character quirk it's less than thrilling to read about, though the friendly officiousness of one of the sisters is a trait more calculated to drive the plot forward. Mr Parker's remaining brother Sidney has only just arrived in town when Austen breaks off, and has Love Interest for Charlotte written all over him. We learn little more than that he likes to make fun of his family, which I suppose singles him out as the sensible one but is not very endearing in itself.

There was one character's main flaw that I found interesting: Lady Denham's poor relation Sir Edward is revealed to be much taken with the rakish characters he reads about in novels by authors such as Richardson, and he's dead set to emulate them. In other words, he's a villain-lover, wilfully ignoring novel writers' attempts to set up rakes as an example of how not to behave, and instead siding with the seducers. It's interesting to see an author aware of the fact that readers will sometimes not react to a novel's characters the way the writer intended. Austen is scornful of Sir Edward's "perversity of judgment" and puts it down to his not having "a very strong head", but at least she has taken note of the phenomenon. Though rakes aren't the kind of villains I have time for, my sympathies in the case are rather with Sir Edward. Nevertheless, as he is "downright silly", he doesn't make for much of a villain himself.

The other lady who completes the novel does her very best with the starting point she's given. She doesn't dwell too much on such things as the Parkers' hypochondria, and she puts a lot of effort into making Charlotte - who in Austen's fragment comes across as little more than an observer, and not a very charitable one at that - into a likeable heroine. Charlotte's pining for the lively Sidney raises the novel's stakes just as it threatens to become too much of one seaside excursion after another. Nevertheless, there were times when I still found the novel a little dull. Perfect reading for a heatwave, though.

Andrew Davies will probably be making his own completion of Austen's fragment for his TV adaptation. It will be fun to see what he comes up with, though I do wonder why a star-quality scriptwriter like himself would want to adapt something as slight as Sanditon. Then again, maybe I'm overly harsh. Perhaps there is something inherently unsatisfying about novel fragments, at least for me: I'm no big fan of Dickens's The Mystery of Edwin Drood either. You sort of expect the novel a first-rate writer is working on when he or she dies to be among the best things that author has written, because you assume their skill to develop with every novel they write. But it doesn't always work that way: I can't be the only one to think Great Expectations is a far better novel than Our Mutual Friend. With my expectations of a half-finished masterpiece disappointed, I'm probably more critical of passages I find uninteresting or clumsy (Sapsea in Edwin Drood! Oh dear, oh dear) in a fragment than I would be had they been part of a finished product.

Also, it's understandable if Davies wants to try his hand at something more relaxing after War and Peace and Les Misérables, like a regency romp which can somehow be linked to Jane Austen. And it's not as if I'm not looking forward to watching it.